


Broken Arrows

by primalrage



Series: McHanzo Week Challenges [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Disabled Character, Hanzo has joined Overwatch, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, McHanzo Week, Overwatch Recall, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26087299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primalrage/pseuds/primalrage
Summary: On a mission, McCree risked his life to save the newest Overwatch recruit, Hanzo. Hanzo doesn't know how he feels about this.Written for McHanzo Week 2020 - August 24th prompt = Scars | Promises
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Series: McHanzo Week Challenges [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892626
Comments: 8
Kudos: 94





	Broken Arrows

**Author's Note:**

> Written in a single sitting, with minimal editing.
> 
> Feel free to drop suggestions for the rest of the McHanzo Week 2020 prompts! 
> 
> August 23 - Sand | Tides  
> August 24 - Scars | Promises  
> August 25 - Silly | Boogie  
> August 26 - Free AU Day  
> August 27 - The Wild | Trapped  
> August 28 - Seasons | Time  
> August 29 - Summer's End | Vacation

The team split, half of them going on a mission to Budapest and the other half heading for Monaco, which meant that, for the first time since joining Overwatch, Hanzo was left alone on base. He was glad for the opportunity to recover in peace. The other Overwatch agents had big personalities and, since day one, had proven to the newest recruit that they had zero concept of personal space.

Doctor Ziegler had left him with strict instructions - no baths, only showers; sleep on his uninjured side; if he had to take his pain medications, then don't mix them with alcohol; no physical activity and _absolutely_ no practice with his bow. If his stitches began to bleed or come out, then he was to have Athena contact her, and if Athena could not contact her, then he was supposed to rush to the civilian hospital. Hanzo had no intentions to disobey her. With the stitches in his back, he could barely even raise his arms to pull a shirt on. She had assured him that there would be less pain as the wounds healed, but it had only been two days since the incident. Just give it time, she had said. By the time everyone got back from their missions, the stitches would be ready to come out.

So Hanzo was (understandably) surprised, when he was sprawled on the couch in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, watching NHK on the rec room television, and the door behind him swung open.

He jumped to his feet so quickly that it tore a moan of pain from his throat. 

"Oh, hey, sorry, Hanzo. Didn't mean to startle you," McCree said.

McCree was the last person on the planet that Hanzo wanted to be left alone with right now. The man was, similarly, dressed in nothing but sweatpants. Hanzo's eyes were drawn to that scarred stump hanging from his side - all that remained of McCree's left arm. At that moment, Hanzo wanted to disappear. 

"How are you doin'?" McCree asked him. He seemed oblivious to Hanzo's horror, and he strolled right across the room to start making a pot of coffee, "You want some coffee?"

"I can help you," Hanzo said. 

"Don't be ridiculous. You're meant to relax and get better."

Hanzo stared in silence as McCree grabbed the pot, brought it over to the sink, and used what remained of his arm to nudge on the faucet. Once he had filled it to whatever measurement he was using, he turned off the faucet with another tap from his arm and poured the water into the top of the coffee maker. 

"McCree..." Hanzo said, tearing his eyes away, "What happened to your prosthetic?"

"Angela sent it to Torbjorn for some repairs, although they might have to make me a new one. I ain't too worried about it," McCree answered, pressing some buttons on the coffee machine and finally turning his full attention to Hanzo, "You're doin' okay, though, right?"

"Why would you risk destroying your arm for me?" Hanzo snapped back at him, his eyes cold and furious.

"Huh? Hanzo, it's just a bunch of metal. Your life is way more important than my dang arm."

"How can you say that? We've barely known each other a few weeks! And I am not a good person. You saw what I did to my brother, and - "

"Hey!" McCree silenced him, taking a few of his long strides across the room to get right in Hanzo's face, "We've already talked about this. Genji put that behind him, and so have all of us. You're one of us now, Hanzo Shimada. I don't gotta think twice about takin' a bullet for you. It was only a stupid prosthetic. Another few weeks, maybe a few months, and I'll get a new one. But we can't replace you. Got it?"

"Well, if there is anything I can help you with - "

"Hanzo, I don't need help with nothin'. Angela left me here to help _you_."

Hanzo's face fell. Of course, McCree did not need his help with anything. It had been rude of him to offer. McCree was not helpless; he simply had to do things a little bit differently right now. Hanzo, on the other hand, was still struggling even to wipe his own ass. Any time he twisted his back or reached behind him, the pain was excruciating. 

"Did Angela get all the shrapnel out?" McCree asked, changing the subject like the hero he was and saving Hanzo from feeling awkward.

"I think so."

"Good," McCree said, "Well then, if you really feel bad about it, I guess you can take me out to dinner. A single date is really the least you can do, considerin' I saved yer life, 'n all."

"McCree," Hanzo grumbled, "I cannot - "

"Listen, I was just playin'. I ain't gonna force you - "

"McCree!" Hanzo snapped at him, "I cannot take you to dinner, because I cannot get dressed."

" _What_?"

"Wearing a shirt, it... It irritates all of my wounds," Hanzo said. He was sure his face must have been beet-red with shame. He turned his back to McCree, letting him see the nasty thicket of stitches back there, "When my shirt rubs them, it - "

McCree laughed. "Here I was like a fool, thinkin' you was just turnin' me down."

Hanzo faced him again. His face, typically so sour, was softened by a smile. "No. After what you did for me, I would be glad to take you to dinner. I would take you to a hundred dinners. But you will have to give me a rain check."

"I can do that," McCree said, "We'll go when you're back to yer old grumpy self."

Hanzo smirked. "Yes. I promise."

McCree flashed him a warm smile, and Hanzo noticed he had the lovelies brown eyes. "Now, Hanzo, how do you like your coffee?"

"Black."

"That's the only right answer!" McCree crossed the room, back to the cabinets.

Hanzo watched as he took down one mug, then a second, and filled them both with the steaming fresh coffee. Hanzo thought about going to take his own mug, so that McCree did not have to figure out how to carry both, but McCree took the two handles in his one hand like it was nothing. He brought them over to the coffee table and flopped down onto the sofa. 

Hanzo took his seat at the other end of the couch. When he reached for his mug on the coffee table, McCree put his hand on Hanzo's chest and eased him back down into the cushions. He grabbed the mug and placed it in Hanzo's hands. "I'm not that helpless," Hanzo said.

"Maybe not, but I gotta get you back on your feet quick, so that I can get my date."

Hanzo rolled his eyes, but, when McCree threw his arm over the back of the couch, he took a few, barely noticeable scoots in closer against McCree's side. Except McCree did notice. He beamed to himself, but didn't address it. "So, what are we watchin'?" 


End file.
